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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26446882">Need More Time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/marimoes/pseuds/marimoes'>marimoes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anxiety, Comfort No Hurt, Coping, Established Relationship, Fluff, Isolationist Tendency, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:55:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,122</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26446882</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/marimoes/pseuds/marimoes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why are you out here anyways?”</p><p>Nathaniel watches as Anders settles further onto the branch he climbed up on, letting his legs swing freely into the air. His robe flutters in the wind against his movements, wrapping and twisting around his calves. To climb a tree in that—it’s impressive.</p><p>“To be alone,” Nathaniel answers coldly.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anders/Nathaniel Howe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Need More Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Where his presence here was once tense, Nathaniel finds himself more and more relaxed as time goes on at the keep. To think he’d actually enjoy seeing it as something other than the estate he grew up with—months ago he wouldn’t have believed anyone. Truthfully, there are times here where he <em> still </em> doesn’t believe anyone. Only on bad days when his mind twists into moods he can almost sense coming. Those are the days he wanders.</p><p>Days like today.</p><p>He’s likely a mile or so from the walls, judging the stone presence finally gone from the horizon. And with it he feels a bit better. There is no trying with him when he’s like this. A childhood of fighting with Thomas and Delilah instilled that within him. Leaving him a teen, wandering this exact path out into the thick growth of the woods with only a bow and pocket knife for safety. Perhaps he’ll climb the old tree he would hide in. The footholds are likely gone with the years, but he’s also much taller now. His true concern should be whether or not the tree can even hold his weight. No longer a gangly thing of puberty, with limbs like wires and a mind with no fear. </p><p>Turning past a winding overgrown path, he finds it. Not like it could’ve moved. It is no sylvan. At least he’s almost sure it’s not as his heels dig into the bark to pull himself up onto the lowest branch. He rights himself before climbing higher to a thicker one, and as he settles on it he sighs. The forest is just as it’s always been. Here for him; quiet with passes of wind that blows his hair and shakes the leaves in a shudder that nearly resonates with his soul. No matter how foul his mood, he has this space. </p><p>He has no one.</p><p>A distinctive crack snaps at the base of the tree, and Nathaniel's unknowingly closed eyes fly open as well. His hand is already on his back, slowly drawing his bow up and over his shoulder as he leans forward to peer down to the forest floor. There is nothing there, only the same green grass as before.</p><p>“Must’ve been a squirrel,” Nathaniel mutters before leaning back.</p><p>“Well.”</p><p>Nathaniel turns, hand drawn back against his face. His arrow quivers at its target for a moment before going slack. Gold sits obscured by the shade of leaves, yet catches what little sun peeks through. It’s framed by freckles on a closed lipped smile. </p><p>“Maker’s breath, Anders! I could’ve shot you!” Nathaniel tucks his bow back into place before rubbing his face harshly with both hands. “How?”</p><p>“With your bow of course,” Anders laughs for a moment and only stops when Nathaniel looks back up at him. “You disappeared! I got worried when it had been half a day without hearing that soft creak of leather I love <em> so much </em> in my ears. Why are you out here anyways?”</p><p>Nathaniel watches as Anders settles further onto the branch he climbed up on, letting his legs swing freely into the air. His robe flutters in the wind against his movements, wrapping and twisting around his calves. To climb a tree in that—it’s impressive.</p><p>“To be alone,” Nathaniel answers coldly.</p><p>“That part is obvious. I meant why do you want to be alone?” </p><p>The brittle pull of undue irritation tugs in Nathaniel’s mind. It lures him further and further back, settling him deep into the recesses that wills him to hide. The very one he wanted to avoid today if at all possible.</p><p>“Because I’m not much company to be around at the moment. I don’t fare well on days like this when I’m around others, so to spare you all I took a walk. A plan that obviously didn’t account for <em> you </em>,” Nathaniel explains pointedly, freeing one leg to swing out of time with Anders’. It does seem to be easier to talk to Anders than others when he feels like this, but it’s still too uncomfortable. </p><p>Anders tsks, shaking his head for a moment. “Unwise of you, Howe. Also, bold of you to assume I can’t always fare you.”</p><p>Nathaniel’s eyebrows raise slightly in surprise before furrowing into discontentment. Anders has likely heard worse and dealt with more than Nathaniel has ever lashed out at someone. No wonder he didn’t think twice to follow, but the point still stands. Anders was the last person he wanted to snap at today. </p><p>Yet here he is.</p><p>“Leave me. Just for a while longer, please? I don’t want to say something wrong just because I feel sour,” Nathaniel ushers, tucking his leg back into his chest before resting his head upon it. “I’ll be back before sundown.”</p><p>Anders’ head falls with a sigh before pushing himself back up to stand. He drops to the ground with a single huff and Nathaniel catches a glimpse of the escape artist Anders seems to be. It would be charming if his head wasn’t screaming at him to say something bitter. He watches as Anders turns to him a final time, lips pressed tightly in thought. </p><p>“I’ll come back for you if you don’t. I hope you get the clarity you desire.”</p><p>Nathaniel blinks at the words only to follow Anders with his eyes as he turns and walks away. Wrapping a steadying arm around his knee, Nathaniel tucks his face away from the light. </p><p>“As do I,” Nathaniel murmurs, eyes closing once more.</p><hr/><p>Time fades as Nathaniel sits, drifting in and out of consciousness. The light bends, lowering slowly over the treetops, turning into the deep red that should signal his departure. He should move. It’s not a thought but a fact, and yet his legs do not move. They stay curled with his thoughts, and for a moment he considers it. He’s survived in worse places than a tree for a night. At least until he feels settled in his mind. Anders wouldn’t <em> really </em>—</p><p>A soft shock registers against Nathaniel’s side, branching through his body up against his ears making his hair stand on end. A yelp leaps from his throat against his will, “Maker!” </p><p>“Now, now, save that for when we get back to your room,” Anders chides, kicking against the base of the tree, “I had a feeling you wouldn’t come back when you said.” </p><p>Nathaniel’s legs dangle on either side of the branch, before falling back against the trunk. It feels as if he’s been out here forever yet no time at all. Sweat becomes more present to his senses as he feels it drying against his neck. He should move, and may actually have no choice if he argues. </p><p>“Are you feeling better?” </p><p>Nathaniel’s eyes flutter open at the drastic change in Anders’ tone. It holds no humor, only concern wrapped in a nice little bow that curves the tops of his lips. How odd he is, that he’s able to jump between moods as fluid as a stone skips on a pond. </p><p>It’s likely why Nathaniel feels himself drawn to the mage, time and time again. Mornings and afternoons spent talking softly against a warming window seat, jokes and wisdom passed back and forth with an ease Nathaniel has never found. And now he is here, waiting beneath a tree for a man that wanted nothing more than to be away from him all day. </p><p>“I don’t know,” Nathaniel answers truthfully. He feels hung in between two sides that pin up above his head, but they’re not necessarily good and bad. Rather, here and… gone. “Give me a moment.” </p><p>Anders does just that, standing quietly to the side as Nathaniel positions himself to swing back down. He does so easily, but lands a bit jilted as the sleep in his leg has not yet shaken loose before his feet connect with the ground. As he stumbles to the side, arm outstretched to press against the trunk for support, he instead finds a shoulder. </p><p>“That’s why you don’t tuck up into a tree for eight hours. Come on, we have a walk to make and there is a rather nice dinner waiting for you,” Anders murmurs, soothing a hand against Nathaniel’s back. “Everyone else has eaten and I saved away your portion to heat in your room. Trust that once we get back I’ll leave you alone again if you’d li—” </p><p>“No.” Nathaniel’s jaw is set around the word. “No, I think it’d be alright if you stayed.” </p><p>A smile tugs at Anders’ lips, but he doesn’t respond. He only nods as he pulls Nathaniel ahead, leaving them to walk back to the keep draped in the cadence of feet against dirt and soft chirps of crickets. </p><p>No one is out when they return to the keep. </p><p>Not even Wade who is usually working late into the night, pressing metal into thin sheets that leaves his face to glow a warm red. It is pleasantly quiet, and with slow breaths Nathaniel thinks he may just make it through the day just as he planned. Better, even, as Anders pushes the door to his quarters open to reveal what he promised earlier. </p><p>Everything is put together as he likes, with bed made and turned down with food sitting within a lidded pot on the small table kept by the hearth. Even as he walks in, kicking his boots off to rest next to the door, he can feel Anders hesitating. Just a touch as his hand stays wrapped around the doorway. </p><p>“I meant it,” Nathaniel says, tugging on the tie behind his head to start freeing his braids. They come down around his face, crimped with sweat and wear before he tucks the hair behind his ears. “You don’t have to leave, Anders.” </p><p>A small sound of surprise comes from the mage’s lips as he pours into the room. His own boots cast aside next to Nathaniel’s all before flicking a single hand to light the hearth. It’s roaring in an instant, crackling against nearly overdried wood. With a deft hand, the pot is hung up and against the curling flames. </p><p>“It should be good in just a few minutes. I know how you like things a little cooler than usual,” Anders says, moving to fall back into the armchair that sits only a few feet from the fire’s reach. He groans, stretching up and out before settling into the chair further. </p><p>Nathaniel hums recognition while still moving around his room to prepare to settle for the evening. His bow, along with his knife and tunic, are tugged off and put back in their rightful places. Everything is where it should be, clean, quiet and together. Everything except for the addition that is still lounging, foot bobbing in the air in his armchair. </p><p>Even then it’s a welcome one—Nathaniel can’t deny that. </p><p>“So, these days you have,” Anders starts, rolling his head trying to catch Nathaniel’s gaze, and when he captures it he smiles, “How often do they happen? Are they caused by anything?” </p><p>Wringing his hands gently, Nathaniel presses his lips into a tight line. He doesn’t really want to talk about this. How he started feeling like this after his mother was gone, and how it never really went away. Not even when he was in the Free Marches, alone. The days would always come and get him when he least expected it. </p><p>But Anders… Anders might actually understand. Hell, he may actually be able to help. Given the things he’s heard from the man, and his general temperament, maybe he’s figured out something that Nathaniel missed. </p><p>“I can never really predict them. Sometimes I just wake up and I can feel it, throbbing in the base of my skull. That if someone speaks to me at all, touches me, looks at me, just exists around me… I’ll snap. After years of the worst with my siblings, I started to just run off at first sign of it until it went away. Probably made it worse, not confronting it, but it was all I knew how to do and then I kept the habit.” Nathaniel walks as he explains, coming to sit against the arm of the chair and Anders leans back to allow him the room. </p><p>The entire time, he’s watching Nathaniel, listening intently. The focus is nearly uncomfortable, but also welcome. He really cares about what he’s saying, eyebrows furrowing as if he’s working through each word. </p><p>Anders seems to consider where to put his arm now that Nathaniel has taken its place, curling it into his side to allow for as much room as he can. His hands fidget for a moment, mouth open just barely trying to conjure words. How he looks kissed by the gentle light of the fire, Nathaniel is drawn in by instead. Oranges that mix with the shades already present on the mage’s skin and hair. </p><p>They say golden hour is a sight to behold each day, but only if you can catch it. Foolish then, for them not to know that it exists outside of time within Anders. That the sun breaks just like a smile does across his face, but is far more warm. </p><p>“I don’t think not confronting it is the problem. Just—when it happens again, I would only ask that you leave a note. That way I don’t have to come traipsing into the forest to find you and potentially make that throbbing worse,” Anders says. His eyes dart suddenly to the fireplace and jumps up at once, grabbing the pot with a thick cloth in one hand before placing it on another. “You don’t have to, of course, but I’d like to think we’re close enough to warrant it.” </p><p>The lid comes off the pot with a soft clatter and no steam billows from the stew. Just how he likes it—why is he so surprised? </p><p>“I could do that,” Nathaniel offers, lifting up off the arm only to be ushered by Anders down into the chair. “I’m not terminal, Anders. I can feed myself, thank you.” </p><p>Anders narrows his eyes in argument, but relents to leaving it be for Nathaniel to fix himself. He instead walks over to his bed, falling onto it with a huff. They sit in silence as Nathaniel eats. It’s rich and welcome across his lips, filling a stomach he was not aware was quite so barren until this moment. It growls in a sharp jolt of noise and Nathaniel hears Anders laugh from the bed. </p><p>“Take food with you next time too. One would think you would know better, being the ranger you are,” Anders teases. </p><p>“I usually do, but I just had to get out this morning before I could run into anyone and I could already hear Sigrun in the kitchen. So, I left.” </p><p>Anders props himself up on both his elbows, legs swinging off the side. “Well, whenever you want me gone tonight just say the word. I’m very good at making myself disappear.” </p><p>While their relationship is only budding—its petals still wrapped up away from the sun of the others—Nathaniel cherishes the times he can hold it in his hands. When they’re both at the keep at the same time and can sit and talk for hours before retiring to a single room. That the way Anders looks in sleep is something he knows better than anyone else, and it’s something he presses hard into his chest on days that they’re apart. </p><p>He finds himself desiring more. </p><p>More laughs from Anders’ chest, full and genuine, rather than the ones he now knows well enough are fake. To take more breath from his lungs as Nathaniel’s lips curve around his collarbone in the dark of night. Hands that dance up freckled shoulders, counting more spots that have formed since last he saw. </p><p>Earlier, he needed more time alone and thought a small amount of it with Anders would be enough. Now, as he places the lid back onto a nearly empty pot, Nathaniel realizes he once again needs more. </p><p>“Stay,” He says, the single word barely coming out before clearing his throat. Lifting to his feet he looks back to find Anders’ eyes wide. “Stay with me tonight, if you would.” </p><p>Anders lifts up all at once, swaying to right himself before holding out a beckoning hand. When Nathaniel moves forward, a grin breaks wide across his face, only pressing closed once he has him in his hold. He kisses the top once, then twice more across the bridge of Nathaniel’s knuckles. </p><p>The act has blush begging to swallow Nathaniel whole, but he doesn’t move. He only saw this sort of affection the times he would visit the Cousland’s home when he was younger. Marveling at how much love sat in the way Bryce looked at his wife. </p><p>It seems like another lifetime entirely, only to now have someone now holding him the same way. </p><p>“I didn’t want to push, but I can’t say I didn’t hope this would be the outcome. I know how days like these feel. They make you want to fall into the dark and never come out. It’s not easy to climb that wall, Nathaniel. Let me lend you a hand sometimes,” Anders murmurs against skin, looking up slightly before placing another kiss. </p><p>Nathaniel swallows at the offer. He was taught to do for himself, to rely on no others if not paying them for said help. Even then you don’t hold them close. You only run and you fight. Other than that there is only waiting and hoping for it to pass. </p><p>“You’ll feel better in the morning, I hope. If not I guess I’ll just have to do that trick you love so much to help you along,” Anders hums, lifting his head up expectantly and Nathaniel leans down to kiss him without question. He holds his chin, thumb stroking softly before sending a small jolt of electricity against him.  </p><p>Nathaniel laughs against his lips, pulling away only to tug off his small clothes. The shirt falls to his feet, leaving Anders to fidget with his robes all at once. They’re on the floor no more than a second before there are hands curled around Anders’ jaw. And when Nathaniel kisses him again, he notices for the first time since they returned that the throbbing in his head is completely gone.</p><p>There is no irritation as Anders’ voice floats in a whisper across his skin. No desire to run as legs tangle with his own holding him in place. Only the warmth of a love still set to bloom and a peace no tree could ever bring. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Nathaniel just seems the type to deal with anxiety and so I've been itching to write a fic about how he likely copes with it. You know, just projecting on characters, per usual. </p><p>Twitter: @__moes__<br/>Tumblr: @noswordstyle</p></blockquote></div></div>
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